


This type of love

by Gina_Banana



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Bottom Harry, Bottom Louis, Kidnapped Harry, Kidnapping, Louis Tomlinson Calls Harry Styles Pet Names, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sad Harry, Slave Harry, Top Harry, Top Louis Tomlinson, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:20:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27730681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gina_Banana/pseuds/Gina_Banana
Summary: It has been 3 years since Harry was ripped from everything he had ever known, from every one he cared about. 3 years since he became nothing more than a slave to his owner.Louis Tomlinson is about to take a big new step to expand his totally legal business, but when he finds out what his new businesspartner has been hiding, Louis knows that shooting that loser in the face would be far more satisfying than any amount of money in the world.I will update tags as i go
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik, Simon Cowell/Harry Styles
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	1. Louis' humble opinion

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> just fyi, english is not my first language! updates may be a little slow bc of that, it takes a lot of time for me to write and edit :)

'Can you stop smoking for one bloody minute Louis?!'.

Louis sighs, already becoming annoyed with his best friend and his constant complaining. 'No Liam, I fucking can't. I'm fucking stressed, annoyed and if you don't fuck off, I will make you kick down that door, and i will fucking shoot everyone in that bloody room.' Louis glares at the large wooden door as if it personally offends him, which it does, stupid shitty door. Why the fuck does anyone need a door that big? Louis know it's improper to light a cig inside, but he really really needs it right now, okay? 

Liam stiffens, knowing Louis is not kidding at all. Louis Tomlinson is known for being one brutal motherfucker, as he should be with his occupation. Louis can't afford to be merciful, to be soft.

Even though he is best known for his 'day-job', being the CEO of Tomlinson Inc, the biggest weaponry fabricator in the UK, it's no secret at all that Louis Tomlinson also dabbles in some underground business. Not prostitution or human-trafficking, he doesn't condone that shit at all, even though he's technically a crime boss, he still has some morals. No, Louis mostly deals drugs and sells illegal firearms.

Liam Payne is Louis' best friend and advisor. Liam has known him for a long time and knows Louis is not a bad person per say, but he does have some anger issues, always quick to resort to violence, which caused a lot, a lot of problems dureing their teens years in high school. Lucliky their parents were rirch enough to pay off their principal, so they wouldnt get expelled. They have been friends since forever, and Louis has always been like that. Aggressive and impulsive, but also very protective of the people he loves.

'Okay, shit man, I'm sorry Louis, but calm down! I know you're stressed but please! This meeting is incredibly important, we could make thousands, maybe even millions if Cowell agrees to this deal!' Liam hates begging Louis like this, but he has to sometimes. If Liam wouldn't push Louis like this, the business would be out of the running in no time. Liam is Louis' one-man-support-gang (Liam came up with this term himself, he's quite proud of it).

Louis glares at his friend, but nods in agreement. 'I know I know', Louis looks at the cigarette in his hand and sighs again. Taking his last drag and blowing the smoke in Liams face.'Okay gimme a minute , I need to take a piss'. He turns around before Liam can even say one word, still coughing from all the smoke blown in his face. Stomping towards the restroom, Louis flicks his smoked-up cigarette to the carpeted flooring. He pushes the bathroom door open roughly and leans on the counter, looking in the mirror.

They are in Simon Cowell's officebuilding. Simon Cowell is the boss of one of the most infamous criminal organizations in London. He's one dirty motherfucker, In Louis' humble opinion anyway. Cowell is one of those bastards who does invest his fortune in the "dirty" underground shit, like selling kids and women, or selling laced drugs to addicts. Louis has heard countless stories from people on the streets, about how Cowell picks up young boys and girls, promising them jobs and a future. Louis' heart aches for all of those kids who never get to go home again, the kids who are killed or sold to Cowells perverted friends.

Louis doesn't fucking want to do business with Cowell. He wants to shoot the fucker in the face, then go home to drink a shit ton of alcohol, maybe tie up and fuck a few pretty boys, if they consent of course, and then pass out on the floor of his penthouse apartment while Liam cleans up his shit.

Louis looks at himself in the mirror. Lottie helped him dress this morning. 'you have to look better than that arsehole Lou' she had said, kissing his cheek. Lottie knows the kinds shit Cowell is involved in, and she doesn't want Louis to follow his example but she understands its good for business if they get Cowell to work with them, that doesn't mean she is okay with it however. 

He smirks at the memory. He looks fucking hot in his opinion. His feathery hair styled up in a perfect quiff, accenting his sharp features, a nice dark blue Armani suit, clinging to his waist and making his eyes pop. He checks his holster, yep, both of his guns are still there, sitting soundly against his ribs. He bends down and also checks his ankle, yep knife's still there. He can't wait to stab Cowell in his little rat-like face.

A knock on the restroom door brings Louis back out of his thoughts. 'Ya ready Tommo?'. Liam's voice sounds through the door. Louis glares at himself in the mirror one last time.

'Yeah i'm coming dickhead' he snarks back.


	2. How did I end up here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw;  
> Rape, Kidnapping, someone getting shot in the leg

Harry is scared.

He has been scared for a while actually.

It has been around 3 years since he was kidnapped by Simo- Sir, by Sirs men.

3 years since he was snatched off the streets, pulled into a dark grey van. ripped from everything he had known, everyone he cared about. He had just been walking home from his friend Nick's house when the van pulled over next to him. Harry knew he was fucked when the door opened and two big buff-looking guys jumped out. Strong hands around his throat, forcing him to breathe in some chemical through a cloth pressed against his nose and mouth. 3 years since he passed out on that street. 3 long years in which he was forced to become some sick man’s fucking slave. Too fucking long.

Every time his kidnapper touches, rapes or looks at him, Harry feels sick to his stomach.

Harry looks out of the window, admiring the blue sky. It’s a nice day.  
His hand clenches into a fist where its laying on the luxurious sofa. He touches his neck with his other hand and scoffs, tugging at the collar wrapped tight around it. A thick strap of black leather, a silver hoop at the front and buckle in the back. As if he needs any more reminding to whom he belongs. ‘Fucking dickhead..’.

The most frustrating thing is that Harry knows no one can rescue him. His ‘owner’ is Simon Cowell. The man who decides what Harry wears, what he eats and how he dresses is the same man that rules England’s’ underground. The same man that bribes politicians for his own gain and kills everyone who gets in his way.  
The man whom Harry called Sir.

The first time Harry actually met Sir, was the morning after he was kidnapped.

_Harry wakes to a slap to his cheek. “Wake up boy”, a deep voice grunts. Harry’s hand comes up to caress his burning cheek, blinking to open his eyes. He is still a bit disoriented._   
_He is laying on a soft bed. Harry notices he’s wearing different clothes from what he was wearing when he was taken._

_His trusty t-shirt, hoodie and baggy jeans have been replaced by soft, light blue silk pyjama pants and a thin robe made from the same material. Harry looks down at his new outfit and frowns, he looks way more feminine than he normally feels comfortable with._

_It’s not really a secret to anyone Harry knows that he likes to dress a bit girly, he has worn women’s blouses and shirts to college before, that kinda stuff. A low cough makes Harry look up. He gasps in realization, he didn’t know where he was._

_“Where am I” Harry whips his head around the room he’s in. Dirty grey walls, a heavy iron door, no windows. A big hand comes and grabs his face, squeezing his cheeks harshly. Harry is forced to look the stranger in the eye. The first thing Harry notices is that the man is wearing an expensive suit, even a broke high schooler like Harry could see that._

_The man holding his face has grey hair and seems to be around 50 years old. He is shorter than Harry, but noticeably a lot more muscular. Which isn’t that surprising, Harry just does not have a lot of muscles, he blames it on being a late bloomer in that department._

_The older man chuckles. ‘Let’s just say that you're home now, alright boy?’. Although his words don't seem all that threatening, Harry feels intimidated by the man.’Wha-what? No! I have a home! Who are you, why am I here? Where even is here?’ Harry begins to panic._

_Another slap to his face shuts him up, the hand that was previously squeezing his cheeks is now curling in to Harry's hair._   
_‘I don’t think I allowed you to speak, did I boy?’ the man growls. Harry shivers in fear at the angry tone of his voice, and shakes his head. ‘No. I did not. However, I do think you deserve an explanation. I am not a cruel man, after all.’. Harry seriously doubts the last statement is true._

_‘My name is Simon Cowell, you may have heard of me. If you do know me, you know that I’m quite powerful.’. The man gives Harry’s hair a last tug before he goes to sit down on the green velvet chair opposite of the bed. He waves his hand through the air before he continues._

_‘Harry, boy, surely you understand, that to be a man of my status can be quite exhausting.’. Simon quirks his eyebrow at the scared boy. ‘And even men like me need to…’ Simon trails off. He stands and approaches Harry again, raising a hand to the boys soft cheek. Harry flinches, scared that the man will strike him again. ‘Even men like me need some relief.’. Simon trails his thumb over Harry’s soft bottom lip._

_‘Wh-what do you mean…relief?’ The boy stammers. Harry knows exactly what the older man means. He does not want to know, but he does. He knows the man wants his body, to use him, to drain him until he becomes some sort of lifeless, obedient sex-toy._

_Simon grips his chin and makes Harry look up. ‘I think you know what I mean boy. Come on, don’t play dumb now.’_   
_Harry scoffs. Although he is most certainly scared, he won’t go down without a fight. His parents did tell him to always stand up for himself._

_‘Seems a bit sad you need to kidnap some random kid for sex doesn’t it? Why don’t you just pick up some prostitute if you’re so desperate?’ he says cheekily, twisting his head quickly, causing Simons grip on his chin to loosen. Harry scrambles up the bed, trying to put some distance between him and the older man._

_Simon clenches his jaw and chuckles tightly. He bends down and grabs Harry’s ankles. Harshly. He pulls the boy down the bed and moves his hands from the bony ankles to the boys thin wrists, wrapping one hand around them. Harry whimpers in pain as he’s forced to lay down on the bed._   
_In a matter of seconds he is pinned down. The hand that is not wrapped around his wrists is gripping Harry’s throat, Simon’s thumb on his jaw to make sure Harry’s face is turned to him. One of the older mans thighs is in between the boys legs pushing up to his crotch. Harry squirms for a moment, trying to get out of Simons grip, but the older man is too strong._   
_‘You better start behaving boy. If you continue to talk to me like this, you will regret it. You listen to me from now on. You do what I say when I say so. If you dare to disobey me, I will make sure you, your friends and even your family will meet the consequences. Is that clear, princess?’_

_Harry has no other choice than to agree. He will not, under any circumstance, allow his loved ones to get hurt. Even if he is forced to become some man’s whore because of it._   
_‘Y-Yes.’ The boy whimpers. Simon smirks, realizing he has found the boys weak spot. If he wants Harry to obey him, he just has to threaten his friends and family._   
_‘Yes who?’ The older man tuts._   
_‘Yes..Sir?’ The boy questions, not sure what Simon wants Harry to say. Sir seems to be the correct title. Simon pats him on the cheek._   
_‘Good boy.’_

Harry sniffs at the memory. He has learned it doesn’t help to think about what happened to him.  
The 21-year old stands up from the sofa he had been sitting on and limps to the tall bookcase on the other side of the rooms. The pain in his ass and lower back is a reminder of Simons long day at work yesterday.

The man had come home at an ungodly hour, unlocking Harry’s bedroom door loudly. Simon had thrown his blood covered jacket on the armchair next to the floor-to-ceiling window, causing the novel the younger boy had been reading to fall to the ground.

Not even bothering to wake Harry, he had grabbed the boy by the hips, forcing him to turn onto his front, pulling his pyjama pants down before spreading Harry’s legs and fucking into him. Harry had woken up just before the older man climaxed, the bruising hold on his hips and the painful drags of Simon’s cock in his dry hole making him whimper in pain.  
Luckily, as some may say, Harry is expected to wear a buttplug at all times, making sure he is always ready to please his owner.

Harry has accepted his owner will take him whenever he wants to, has accepted the fact that he can’t do anything about it. He doesn’t really care, not anymore. He has tried to resist, in the past, as anyone would.

That didn’t go down too well for him. Sir absolutely does not condone straight-up disobedience.  
Harry doesn’t think he has ever seen the man so angry again, as he had been when Harry had kicked him in the stomach when Simon had tried to finger him for the first time. Seconds after Harry had started to try to get the man off of him, Simon had angrily shouted for his men. The older man had pulled Harry up by his hair and pushed him into a strange man’s chest. He was then quickly forced down on his knees by Simon’s bodyguard, Nick.

Nick Grimshit is a cowardly, arse-licking, trigger happy son-of-a-bitch. Harry absolutely hates the cunt. He hates the way Nick touches and gropes him and he hates the way the other man’s beady eyes always seem to be undressing Harry.  
He hates the fact that Sir seems to be fond of Nick. Simon let’s Nick get away with shit others would be killed for. Seriously, Simon has killed multiple people for even looking at Harry the “wrong” way, and yet he has allowed Nick to fuck his boy on multiple occasions.

After Nick had forced Harry down, he grabbed his hair, pulling his head back until Harry was looking up into his owner’s cold eyes. Harry shivered in fear when he saw that Simon had his gun in his hand.  
Of course Harry knew Simon had a gun, but the older man had always tried to keep his weapons, and drugs, away from Harry. Maybe to make sure the boy couldn’t find a way to escape, he still doesn’t know.  
But Simon didn’t seem to be worried Harry saw his firearm at that moment. He most certainly didn’t try to hide it when he pressed the cold barrel against Harry’s lips, ordering the boy to suck on it like he would on a cock. Harry had never obeyed a command that fast. It was as humiliating and terrifying as it was meant to be.  
And yeah, that is why Harry doesn’t like Nick.

The sound of his bedroom door unlocking makes Harry look up. ‘Who is it?’ he asks softly.  
‘it’s just me Haz’, Harry smiles lightly at the heavily accented voice.

Niall is the only one he still trustswith his life . He knows Niall has no choice but to work for Simon, and that he would do anything else if he could.

Niall enters the bedroom and waves his hand at Harry.  
’Hiya mate, how you doing?’ he chirps.  
‘I’m doing fine, you?’ Harry leans against the bookcase.  
‘Yeah, I’m great. Listen Haz, Simon sent me. He wants you at the office, like right now.’  
Niall becomes more serious and Harry frowns.  
‘But how? You can’t drive with your knee, right?’

Niall has had some issues with his knee for a while, but it all went downhill when he got shot in his leg a few months ago.  
‘Nah, he sent the limo. Do you needa change before we go?’. Niall knows how Simon is about the way Harry dresses.

Harry looks down at his clothes, judging his current outfit. Soft peachy-coloured silk shirt, white trousers and brown leather loafers. Harry hums. ‘I think it’s fine, just need to button it up all the way.’

If he doesn’t everyone will see the hickeys and bruises Simon left on his neck and chest, and Simon will surely call him a whore or something similar.  
Simon doesn’t like it when other men look at Harry. Harry doesn’t know if its because Simon think Harry might use his appearance to seduce men into helping him escape, or if it’s just a blow to Simon’s enormous ego.

‘Okay, well, let’s go then!’ Niall beckons the boy. Harry nods and follows the Irishman downstairs, through the front door of the mansion and into the black limousine.  
The drive to the city, where Simon office is, isn’t really that long.  
But it feels like hours to Harry. The boy isn’t allowed to leave the house that often, so every trip is like an adventure to him.

He laughs at the stories Niall tells and looks out of the dark windows with a hopeful look.

Harry gets scared again when they arrive at the office. He exhales shakily when Niall open his door. He gets out of the car. ‘Lets see what he wants this time.’.


End file.
